


Friday Afternoon

by Wetislandinthenorthatlantic



Series: Tumblr Prompts [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Mollcroft, Mycroft Being Mycroft, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-03
Updated: 2014-07-03
Packaged: 2018-02-07 08:32:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1892286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wetislandinthenorthatlantic/pseuds/Wetislandinthenorthatlantic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"She put you up to this didn’t she?" The "She" Mycroft was referring to with such displeasure was Anthea.</p><p>"No. She and I can both see you are working far too hard at the moment."  Molly knew this weekend away was going to be a hard sell so she was ready with her arguments.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Friday Afternoon

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mugglebornprincess](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mugglebornprincess/gifts).



> Congratulations to @mugglebornprincess for supplying the first prompt: “Molly is worried that Mycroft is being overworked and tries to get him to relax (whether that be doing something silly, sexy or both in one story is up to you.)
> 
> This is for you mugglebornprincess — enjoy!

"She put you up to this didn’t she?" The "She" Mycroft was referring to with such displeasure was Anthea.

"No. She and I can both see you are working far too hard at the moment." Molly knew this weekend away was going to be a hard sell so she was ready with her arguments. 

"She has turned off my phone."

"You know full well that you will still get any red alerts."

Mycroft scowled silently, looking out the window of his car as it negotiated through the heavy afternoon traffic. 

"This is a very circuitous way home." Mycroft’s brow was furrowed and he was frowning hard. 

"We aren’t going home." Molly steeled herself for what she knew was coming next. 

"Where are we going?" Mycroft was shouting. 

"To the airport."

"Why?" Still shouting. 

"I told you we are going away for the weekend."

"No. I’m. Not." This defiant command was given through gritted teeth. 

"Yes. We. Are. Your bag is already packed and in the boot. It is sitting right next to my bag which is filled with treats for you." Molly, ignoring the shouting and the hard-line stance from the British Government had a self-satisfied look on her face. 

"I am being kidnapped using my own car and my own plane. Un-bloody believable." Mycroft rolled his eyes.

"Hey! A little less sass or the handcuffs come out and I play Kidnap Mycroft for real." Molly giggled. 

Mycroft’s expression was alternating between shocked, horrified and quite keen. 

"You do not have handcuffs in your bag."

"Keep talking Mr. and I’m sure I can find a gag in there as well." Molly tried to look stern. It only sort of worked. 

Mycroft let out a sigh and let his head lay back in resignation against the leather headrest. He looked over at Molly. (Secretly, trying to deduce if there actually were handcuffs somewhere in the car.) Slowly his hand made its way across the empty seat and found Molly’s hand. Their fingers entwined. 

"Tell me more about these treats." Mycroft’s voice was relaxing. "So I can decide if I come quietly, or put up a fight."

"Well, let’s see … What can I tell you about?… I want you to have a few surprises …" Molly’s eyes were rolled up like she was reading a list in her head. "I popped into Fortnum and Mason and picked up a hunk of your favourite cheese, a jar of chutney, and other nibbly bits."

"I hate surprises. I will complain all weekend."

"From home I took the bottle of wine you have been wanting to drink and those two new books that you haven’t gotten anywhere near."

"Which bottle?"

"From the rack on the left just as you walk into the wine cellar."

Mycroft made an appreciative noise. “Perhaps there will be a few bright spots in my captivity.” 

"I have also brought in a few small items made of silk that you might find of interest … should you finish your books and be left with nothing to do." Molly bit her bottom lip while watching the expression on Mycroft’s face soften.

The corners of Mycroft’s mouth tugged up into a smile. “Any chance …” 

"Actually yes. Anthea did manage to find it in my size and … your favourite colour." The last part of this sentence was delivered in a whisper directly into Mycroft’s ear. 

The car came to a stop near the stairs of the private plane. The two got out of the car and uncharacteristically Mycroft strode up the stairs first, calling over his shoulder. “If we end up at war with Denmark due to me being incommunicado this weekend you and Anthea will only have yourselves to blame.” 

Molly slowly climbed the stairs while rolling her eyes. She had a huge grin on her face. 

Mycroft, who was already seated with his seat belt on called loudly. “Molly do hurry up! We have only have until Sunday!”


End file.
